Falling Into Infinity
by RaichuTec
Summary: Add in a pinch of rebellion, a dash of SeeD intervention and a teaspoon of intrigue. (Someday I might finish this too.)
1. Parts 1 & 2

Disclaimer: All Final Fantasy Characters and settings are property of Squaresoft.   
  
  
Author's Note: This is a story. I'm not writing this with intent to put certain characters together romantically, I'm basically making this up as I go along. If you're going to flame it because you'd prefer to see so and so hook up with such and such, please don't bother. I'll merely laugh. Otherwise, enjoy.  
  
  
  
Part 1: Peruvian Skies  
  
  
You're not a hero unless you die.  
  
But, Squall Leonhart was very much alive. Barely eighteen, a child in the eyes of many, and yet the Commander of an entire mercenary company. Garden. The only Garden left following the Second Sorceress War. Oh he wasn't the only one being lauded as a hero, there were others. Quistis Trepe, Zell Dincht, Selphie Tilmitt, Irvine Kinneas, Rinoa Heartilly, even Seifer Almasy had his own part in all of the tale. Not the knightly example he wanted to set originally, far from his romantic dream, the blonde was still seen as some sort of tragic foil in the stories and biographies that had suddenly popped up like wildfire following the end of Ultimecia's terror-laden reign.   
  
As time passes, however, things change. People change. In peacetimes Cid had left Squall as the Commander, leaving the boy to sink or swim with the position. During the war, he'd excelled, reluctantly accepting the responsibility as a necessity of the time. He hadn't expected Garden's Headmaster to leave him in charge once things calmed again. Oh, he had plenty of advisors, even Cid himself merrily came around to inform Squall of this meeting or that diplomat arriving to discuss such and such a topic. And he loathed every moment of it.  
  
Rinoa was the one thing in his life that allowed him a moment of stability, and even that had been threatened recently. They were children, after all, with all the yearnings of youthful hearts and fickle minds. Rinoa had remained at his side, there for him on those long nights when his brooding had taken him down a paticularly dark psychological alley. However, he felt the strain between them lately, her avoidance. He didn't doubt her loyalty to him, but he did doubt her love for him. Were they destined to remain together? Their relationship had begun under the stress of the war, could it somehow be maintained through times of peace? He knew he'd come to rely on her too heavily, now. Perhaps he was even stifling her.  
  
But, he had no idea how to stop. Once he hadn't needed anyone, a loner not only in name but in truth. Rinoa had changed that, and he couldn't go back.  
  
It was this thought pattern that drew the young Commander out of his room that evening. The Dormitory corridor was empty, his boots ringing hollowly on the tile floors to provide a distraction as he noticed the deathly silence around him. Since the war, SeeD hadn't often been hired for military operations, merely as bodyguards or diplomatic escorts. There were no more strained relations between Dollet and Galbadia. In fact, Galbadia had been treading lightly lately. Their involvement with the Ultimecia controlled Edea was not forgotten, nor was their destruction of Trabia forgiven. Esthar's sudden re-emergence from their xenophobic invisibility upped the stakes of war as well. There were definate tensions, but so far it remained a cold war of words and politics rather then armies and military might. Thusly, Garden remained quiet. Hardly the bustle of activity it had been a few months earlier.  
  
To the upper deck he wandered, looking out over the landscape of Balamb Isle. He felt the comfort of being alone, hoping perhaps he wouldn't be disturbed in his reveries. Zell and Irvine seemed to have the worst habit of finding him during these moments, but at least this time he was assured of his peace. Zell and Selphie had been dispatched as escorts for a Galbadian diplomat en route to Esthar. Irvine and Quistis similarly were sent off to Galbadia to keep an eye on the political dissent growing there. Since the death of Vinzer Deling, there had been several coups to usurp the Presidency from his brother and the Deling family. Though Squall wasn't overly fond of Frankard Deling or his brood, he wasn't supposed to decide moral issues and when the President approached him about hiring out SeeD to root out the rebels, he'd accepted and sent two of his best.  
  
Evening was arriving, the sun descending to sleep beneath the arch of the world as the Commander watched impassively. A few stars had already begun to wink in the skies above, though one flash in paticular caught his eye. This was no star, but perhaps an aircraft, headed toward Garden. Straightening, Squall frowned as he watched its approach. No one was due to arrive here today, and the only craft missing from Garden was the Ragnarok, as Selphie had taken it for the diplomatic mission. Then it hit him, that danger sense, the palpable feeling that something simply wasn't right. The hairs stood up on the back of his neck in warning.  
  
In front of the eyes of Garden's Commander, the ship suddenly exploded in a flash of light and ball of fire, nose diving into one of the forests of the plains.  
  
Part 2: Spark  
  
Irvine Kinneas was soaking wet when he entered the hotel room he and Quistis shared for the duration of their time in Galbadia. Leaning heavily against the door, he exhaled a melodramatic sigh, removing the drenched hat to set it against his chest, over his heart. "Quistis, whatever you do, don't go outside. It's raining cats and dogs and they're biting too."  
  
Quistis Trepe glanced up from the laptop in front of her, adjusting her glasses as she smirked at the wet cowboy. "I'll take that under advisement, now get changed." A few last typed words, and her latest report was finally sent off, though she puttered around further, checking recorded notes and observations she and Irvine had witnessed in the three days since they'd arrived in Galbadia. This was for a number of purposes. She liked to re-read her thoughts, checking to make sure she hadn't missed something. She always remembered something later, and often ended up adding more notations to her already extensive notes on the mission. And, most of all, it kept her from looking up at Irvine as he started stripping out of his clothing. Oh, he had no interest in Quistis, thoroughly leashed by one Selphie Tilmitt as of late, but the boy had utterly no sense of propriety. Why they hadn't seen fit to give the two separate rooms was beyond her understanding, but she was coping.  
  
"I met with the contact though, he was a few minutes late, but that's ok. Usually that's my perogative," Irvine said with a chuckle. He'd gotten out of everything but his jeans, which were spared the rainfall by his chaps. He saw nothing wrong with wandering around in just that, though Quistis was obviously refusing to look at him. For her comfort, he found a shirt from his bag and threw it on.  
  
"It's your perogative when we're not on a mission, Kinneas," Quistis replied somewhat sternly, flicking her turquoise gaze toward the cowboy as she realized he'd finally donned something decent. "Here, you type it up yourself. I'll send it off tomorrow."   
  
Picking up the laptop, she scooted across her bed to hold it out toward Irvine. With a sigh he took it reluctantly. Paperwork and follow up reports weren't his forte. Just point him in the right direction and he'd point the gun. That was his take on things. Still, Squall seemed confident he and Quistis would work well together on this mission. It irked him, a little, that he'd not been allowed to accompany Selphie instead. Why, he wasn't exactly sure. The little wonder in yellow wasn't his girlfriend, though the two were often mistaken for a couple as they hung out together all the time. They'd so often been dispatched on missions together that he'd just begun to take it for granted. Which is why this sudden change caught him so off guard.  
  
"I didn't get much out of him, except that there's a meeting tomorrow night, for anyone wanting to join the revolution," Irvine said idly as he typed, hitting the backspace a few times as he frowned. Quistis was so much better with her prose, always sounding so official in her reports. There were times that the cowboy felt a little inadequete compared to her steely resolve and professional mannerisms. But, one talent she simply did not possess was all his: the ability to fasttalk his way into and out of nearly any situation. It's the primary reason they'd gotten this far in the mission so quickly. Quistis was simply too high strung, too cool to seem real and heartfelt when she tried to appeal to their first contact. It had almost been a loss, at least until Irvine spoke up. He had a natural way of empathizing with people and before either realized it, he'd gotten them in. Quisty had even called him a sonovagun for it. Because of it, he was the one sent out to deal with the various contacts as they were presented.  
  
The situation in Deling was rather intense, several rebel groups springing up out of the chaos that had ensued following Vinzer Deling's death. The most powerful of them called themselves GFF, or Galbadian Freedom Front. They were so organized that no one could infiltrate their numbers without being eventually sniffed out and snuffed. The Galbadian government had tried several times already, and finally gave up, hiring out SeeD for the job in hopes they might succeed where their soldiers had failed. It was fairly easy for Irvine, who actually felt sympathy for them. His heart wasn't at all in this mission. He'd grown up in Galbadia, his foster parents herders outside the city limits, and he knew the repression the people had been under for years. It had only grown worse since Vinzer's death. Taxes soared, curfews were enforced strictly, rationing of goods had become commonplace, all of it only further fueled the restlessness of the Galbadian people.  
  
"Well, I'll be accompanying you tomorrow night then, but you get to do all the talking, cowboy," Quistis replied. Walking toward the balcony, she watched the rain patter against the window panes in a steady stream. Irvine annoyed her with his brashness, his utter lack of discipline, but even she had to admit his natural way of being had saved the mission. She'd bristled initially when he'd interrupted her with the first contact, but in retrospect, she understood and was grateful. Her own pride was not something to sacrifice the mission for.   
  
Something outside attracted her eye, however, leading her out of her thoughts rather abruptly. In the alleyway below were a pair of men confronting one another in the pouring deluge. Opening the double doors, she ignored Irvine's questions as she walked out in the rain to peer down. After a moment, she felt his presence beside her, ignoring the fact that he smelled of old leather, gunpowder and newfallen rain. That just wasn't something she wanted clouding her senses, especially as the scene below unfolded before them.  
  
The steady sheet of precipitation masked the pair below, their raingear making it nearly impossible to discern anything about either individual. They appeared to be in the midst of a struggle, grasping for a brown briefcase clasped in the smaller man's hand. There was a scream as a firearm fired and that was when Quistis realized Irvine was no longer standing beside her, he'd jumped down, shotgun in hand to take care of the situation personally.   
  
"Kinneas, no!" she shouted uselessly, cursing the brash youth for his impetuousness. They had a mission, dammit, and he was putting it in jeopardy with this. Still, she knew his soft heart simply wouldn't allow him to sit back as some innocent was slaughtered in front of him. Dashing back into the room, she grabbed for her own weapon, praying nothing would happen to Irvine before she was able to join him.  
  
  
To be Continued.... 


	2. Parts 3 & 4

Same Disclaimer as always: Final Fantasy characters and settings belong to Squaresoft.  
  
  
  
  
  
Part 3: Surefire  
  
  
Selphie Tilmitt wasn't expecting any trouble. This mission was a peice of cake, or pie, or one of those chocolate chip cookies she hadn't had in ages. Just fly the Ragnarok alongside the Galbadian ships and get them safely over to Esthar and back. Peachy keen, easy. But, the only problem with all of this was who they partnered her with. Zell Dincht was cool and her friend and all, but a pilot he was not and, unlike Irvine, had a bad habit of not being able to sit still. So far he'd been constantly up and down, up and down, asking her all sorts of questions about the ship and what this button was or that lever did. Now, she wasn't exactly a quiet girl herself, but while flying, she preferred to be able to concentrate. Irvine never acted like that, always real quiet, except when she'd engage him in conversation. She'd make sure to let Squall know she wanted her cowboy back with her again for any further missions.  
  
Zell, for his part, wasn't trying to be annoying. Actually, he was more eager to do something a lot more physical then this escorting thing. He'd really wanted to go with Quistis to Galbadia, for that seemed a lot more exciting to the spikey haired blonde then sitting on a ship, watching the atmosphere go by. But, unfortunately, Squall had sent Irvine off on that one. Something about him being a lot more of a smoothtalker. Well, it wasn't as if Zell could argue that point. So, instead he tried to be good, sitting alongside Selphie until he just couldn't take it anymore and had to get up. He sensed he was probably irritating her a little, but he just couldn't help it. She got to do things, he was just there.   
  
So far things were rather dull. The flight got off on time, without a hitch. The Galbadian ship had reported no troubles since the take off, and the skies were relatively clear. There hadn't been so much as turbulance even. Selphie was more then familiar with the Ragnarok's controls, and after awhile stuck it on autopilot so she could get up a moment and stretch. Zell was in the back, of course, bouncing in his typical warm-up fashion, as if they were off to the fights rather then to just hang out in Esthar for a day or so. It wouldn't be so bad. She could go shopping, after all. Maybe she could even find something sweet for Irvine and... Ahem. Blushing a little, she realized she was thinking about him again. Since rediscovering some of her memories, she'd begun to recall their childhood moments and had questioned him thoroughly about what she didn't remember. He really was a sweety too, when he wasn't attempting to hit on her. She'd come to rely on him. Maybe just a little too much. It's amazing what you miss when it's gone.  
  
Zell looked up as she stretched, a little surprised at the blush he saw coloring her cheeks. "Are you all right, Selphie?"   
  
"Oh, yes," she replied, smiling somewhat sheepishly. There was no way he could tell what was on her mind, but the fact that he caught her blushing was more then enough to embarass her further.Hopping from foot to foot, she had to reach down to tug one of her boots back on. As strange a habit as it was, it was a nervous gesture on her part. Zell wasn't at all fooled by it, but he shrugged his shoulders and ignored it. If Selphie wanted to tell him about it, she would. Women were weird anyway.  
  
A blip from the main console got both their attentions at once and Selphie wandered back over to check on the readings. Radar had indicated something closing in on their proximity and with a brow furrowing, she seated herself anew to get a better lock on it, tapping keys and flicking switches. Oh dear.  
  
"Zell, get into your seat and put your seatbelt on," she commanded as her own safety belt was snapped into place. "We got incoming." Flicking the commlink on, she spoke aloud for the microphone.  
  
"Ragnarok to Galbadia 1. We have incoming, I repeat, we have incoming. Ships unidentified, will be engaging shortly."  
  
"Copy that, Ragnarok. Galbadia 1 preparing for possible hostilities."  
  
Now, perhaps it was just woman's intuition, but Selphie didn't like this scenario all of a sudden. The incoming ships, three in number, had not attempted radio contact with the Ragnarok yet. She was certain the Galbadian ship would alert her if they had heard anything either. They were also unidentified, no country's marking anywhere to be found. Scanning them with the ship's sensors produced nothing in its vast databases. This did not bode well.  
  
Switching frequencies, she attempted her own communications, "This is the Ragnarok, escort to Galbadia 1 under a diplomatic mission to Esthar. Please state your position. I repeat, please state your position."  
  
"So what's going on?" Zell finally asked. He'd been a good boy and actually obeyed orders when told to sit and belt up. Then again, he and everyone else in Garden knew how Selphie piloted the Ragnarok. She was good, but she had no qualms about rocking the ship through tight spaces and tough maneuvers. She frowned and shook her head, at least expecting something back from the incoming ships. They wouldn't outright attack a diplomatic ship, would they?  
  
"I don't know, Zell, it just feels wrong to me though," she replied, trying to run yet another scan on the incoming ships. There were nigh close to engagement range and it made her very nervous. She didn't want to outright attack them if they were peaceful craft, but did she dare risk the Galbadian ship?   
  
Her question was answered a heartbeat later. Rapid fire guns began to pummel the side of the Galbadian ship with multiple shots. Grimacing and cursing herself for not listening to her intuition, Selphie veered left, blocking the incoming air craft from further ability to strike the ship. They'd have to deal with her now and she was not a happy girl at the moment. "Rrrrr, think you can ruin my mission do you! Well, take this! Zell, man the weapons console, and do what I tell you to, to the letter."   
  
The spikey haired blonde leapt to his feet, sliding into the seat at the console with an excited bounce. He barely remembered to put the safety straps on before she suddenly jerked the Ragnarok upward, nearly sending him against the controls. One wrong button pushed and it could spell disaster, so luckily Zell was able to grab the arms of the chair and hover an inch above the console before she righted the ship again and sent him reeling back into the padding. Then he made sure to put the straps on with a sigh of relief. Selphie began to shout her orders at him, and luckily she wasn't speaking in her typical slang. She was familiar with all aspects of the ship, but needed to concentrate on her piloting, counting on Zell now to destroy the enemy as she maneuvered them into range.  
  
"Fire at will," she finally said, and muttered, "Poor Will." Usually Irvine would say that, but he wasn't here, and so she felt obligated to add it in his absence.  
  
And Zell needed no encouragement, glad to be doing something as opposed to sitting around, or standing around as it were. Peppering the oncoming airships with gunfire, he whooped as one of them suddenly exploded in a firey mass of metal and machinery. One down, two to go. Jerked slightly in his seat, the straps kept him from being tossed all over the place as Selphie ducked and weaved, leading the last two ships in a cat and mouse game away from the Galbadian ship. The second ship went down with a similarly firey end and then the last finally succumbed to the Ragnarok's superior firepower. Not to mention superior pilot.  
  
"Ragnarok to Galbadia 1. Enemy destroyed," Selphie tried so hard to keep her glee out of her voice, but it was nigh impossible, adrenaline still coursing through her bloodstream. "Damage report please, are you able to continue?"  
  
"Galbadia 1 still operational. We will be able to make it to Esthar, but will need time for repairs. Looks like President Deling will be paying SeeD a little extra."  
  
Slumping in her seat a little, Selphie sighed, her mind going to autopilot as she checked the radar and scanners for any other airships that might try to finish what the others had failed to do. A few more days in Esthar? Well, it was good that they'd be getting paid a little more, but bad too. She'd have to wait longer to hear from Irvine. "Copy that, Galbadia 1. No further interference detected. Let's get you to Esthar." Man, this sucked.  
  
"Totally anti-Booyaka," she said aside to Zell.  
  
Part 4: Space Dye Vest  
  
Dawn was beginning to break over the Island of Balamb by the time the wreckage of the airship had been cleared out of the forest area it'd crashed into. Teams of SeeD had worked diligently, and Squall had been there for all of it, directing them, even aiding them by entering the hull of the craft himself. There was little left of it, the passengers, two burnt corpses that would have to be identified by Dr. Kadowaki, never stood a chance. All possible papers or records from the ship itself were destroyed in the blast, even the flight data recorder had been struck, meaning they had no idea who these individuals were, or why they were attempting to reach Garden. It bothered Squall, a mystery he needed to solve.  
  
"Squall, there's been a communication from Selphie..." Rinoa's voice was hesitant as she approached the man she claimed to love. "It came in late last night, but you were busy, so I... well, I didn't want to bother you with it yet."  
  
Running a hand through his toussed hair, Squall gave Rinoa a weak smile, reaching for the printout as she held it out to him. Grey eyes flicked over it briefly and the smile quickly faded to a frown. "An attack on the Galbadian Escort?" Looking back at the hull of the destroyed ship, he rubbed at his chin thoughtfully. It seemed too coincidental that this ship and the escort were both attacked on the same day, nearly the same time, if the time on this report was correct. He highly doubted Selphie would be so lax, which made all of this that much more intriguing. And he hated intrigue.  
  
"Thank you, Rinoa," Squall replied. He wished she had given it to him earlier, but Rinoa, for all her time in a resistence group, was not of a military mind. Not even being the daughter of a military General gave her any sort of experience to counter the naivete that still pervaded her personality. She meant well, and that was enough to keep him from snapping at her in his curlish mood.   
  
"You're welcome, Squall... I..." Rinoa trailed off, not quite willing to look him in the eye suddenly. This seemed like such horrible timing, though in truth she'd been planning this for a few weeks now. If only this ship hadn't come out of no where, her decision would be so much easier. At least, it wouldn't quite assault her conscience as it was now. "I'm going back to Timber. Tomorrow."  
  
Stunned, Squall suddenly forgot the printout in his hand, the hull of the ruined ship only yards away from him. Everything suddenly centered around Rinoa. She was leaving him? Now? There were so many questions he wanted to ask her. Why? Why now? What could he do to stop her? But none of them escaped his lips, none of them were voiced. It was her choice, after all. The grey of his eyes darkened, matching the shiftless pallor of the morning skies above.  
  
"If that's what you want, Rinoa. I won't stop you."  
  
Rinoa visibly winced at his words, watching her former lover shift from stressed to stoney. She had seen him do this so many times before, drawing inward when he should be releasing. No, it was not what she wanted. Not one bit. She longed for him to ask why, at the very least. To ask her to stay, to tell her he loved her. But, she could see that this wasn't going to happen. Squall Leonhart simply didn't have the capacity for such outward emotions. And so, Rinoa Heartilly decided perhaps she alone was not enough to melt the ice around the Lionheart. She was eighteen, and had her whole life ahead of her. As cruel as it seemed to her, perhaps her decision was a wise one.  
  
And with that, she turned and strode away bursting into a jog as she fled, Squall left in her wake to watch her walk out of his life forever.  
  
  
To be continued.... 


	3. Parts 5 & 6

Standard Disclaimer: Final Fantasy characters and settings belong to Squaresoft.  
  
  
Part 5: The Crimson Idol  
  
  
Thunder rumbled overhead as the storm continued to pour down on Deling City. The body in the alley had already drained away all sense of life before Irvine leapt down into the fray. The assailant had fled the moment the cowboy aimed a rather large shotgun at him. If not for Quistis' intervention, he'd have given chase, but a hand on his shoulder and a soft voice ordered him not to. Reluctantly he lowered the firearm, glancing at her from over his shoulder. The rain had begun to flatten her golden hair against her face and throat already, but that did nothing to change the utter authority in her eyes. She expected to be obeyed.  
  
"We have a job to do here, Irvine. Galbadia can handle their own justice systems."  
  
Irvine disagreed, but he was still considered a citizen of Galbadia, technically, and knew how their justice systems worked. Kneeling next to the dead man, he felt for a pulse in vain. The rains were already cooling the corpse, leaving his skin ashen and lifeless. The briefcase he'd so valiantly defended was still clutched in one hand, so the cowboy reached for it, even as he heard Quistis huff out her breath in an irritated sigh.   
  
"Come on Quisty, might as well see what the man died for. Could be important," Irvine said, not bothering to wait for her to respond as he flicked open the case. She didn't bother arguing further, leaning over the cowboy to peer at the contents herself. Though Quistis would never admit it, she was just as curious as he was.  
  
Inside was a number of papers, and data transcript tapes. Irvine tilted the case a bit to keep rain from getting inside, cornflower blue eyes peering at the topmost paper to get the jist of it. Classified was clearly stamped on it in red ink. Quistis gasped, closing the case immediately, prying his fingers loose from the handle and snapping the clasps closed. Snatching it up, she looked almost gleeful as she gestured for the cowboy to follow her back around the front to the hotel entrance.   
  
"Irvine, I could almost kiss you right now," she exclaimed almost excitedly as the two tracked water into the hotel room again. Without wasting time she set the case down on the table, flicking it open to start rifling through the papers. Tossing one of the data tapes to the cowboy she added, "Put that in the laptop and run it. I think we just hit paydirt."  
  
The idea of kissing Quistis wasn't half bad to Irvine, but at the same time he grimaced at the mention of it. Quistis was nice and all, but he rather had his heart set on Selphie, even if he was attempting to deny that very fact. He'd calmed considerably since she'd come back into his life, the ladies man persona slowly fading away. If asked, he attributed it to his age, nearing eighteen, and the fact that SeeD needed to be responsible, though in truth he knew that was about as bogus a lie as saying the sky was pink. Catching the data tape as she tossed it to him, he inserted it into the laptop, hitting the appropriate keys to run it. Quistis rushed over to sit on the edge of the bed, both SeeDs now eagerly waiting for the program to begin.  
  
On the screen appeared a white washed room, non-descript in appearance. It could be any room in nearly any basement. There was a chair set up, with a glass of water resting on a table next to it. Movement blocked the camera for a moment, someone walking in front of it. Both of them gasped in unison as the individual sat down, papers in his lap, cold jade eyes staring at the camera, the viewer, intensely.  
  
"Seifer."  
  
Indeed, the former Sorceress's Knight and fallen Garden student occupied the seat before the camera. Dressed in his usual flashy way, he obviously had never abandoned the coat with the red crosses even after his exilement from his former school. Last the two had heard, he'd taken up residency at Fisherman's Horizon with Fuujin and Raijin. He'd ceased to be a threat to Garden, and to the rest of the world. Until now.   
  
"So, you want to join the Galbadian Freedom Front," Seifer began, relaxing in his chair without slouching. He was always impeccable that way. The grin on his lips bordered on sneering, for the boy never could quite lose that condescending stance. Even humbled in front of Squall after the events of the Second Sorceress War hadn't tamed that arrogance of his one bit. Irvine still remembered watching the trial that followed, Squall setting Seifer free as an exile from Garden, never to be allowed inside again. The blonde had raged against the sentence, not for any real desire to be back at Garden. He wanted atonement, punishment, not exile. It made the cowboy come to respect him a little more. Then again, he hadn't known Seifer as the others had. His only memories of him were the orphanage days, and then his corruption at the hands of Ultimecia. So, what was he doing in the Galbadian Freedom Front now?  
  
"If you're watching this, then you've expressed an interest and don't be getting any ideas about jumping right in to help us. We have ways, you see, and you're going to stick to them or you're going to get dead, fast. We don't pussy foot around here."  
  
"Typical Seifer," Quistis sighed as she rose from the bed. Leaving the cowboy to stare at the screen in a mixture of horror and fascination, she began to pace up and down the length of the room. This upped the stakes dramatically if Seifer were involved with, or even in charge of, the Freedom Front. The blonde could easily recognize both her and Irvine, and that would make the entire mission a complete failure, all for naught. It was fortunate they'd at least discovered this ahead of time. What if she'd accompanied Irvine tomorrow night only to end up learning this too late?  
  
"Hey, Quisty, come back, you gotta see this," Irvine said, interrupting her thoughts. Rewinding some of the playback, he started the program again as she sat on the edge of the bed. It was the end of Seifer's little speech, the blonde getting up from his chair. Someone turned the camera slightly toward another wall, and just a sliver of a window was visible from the far right before the program ended and winked off.  
  
"Pull that back up and enhance that window, Kinneas," Quistis ordered breathily, scooting a little closer to the cowboy then she meant to as she gestured to the screen. If there was anything to be seen through that window, they might not have to engage in any of these charades. Obeying as commanded, Irvine found the spot with the window shot, centering to the right, then enlarging and enhancing the picture till they found themselves staring at what appeared to be a street within Deling. One sign was half visible from a shop nearby. 'Something Red Eye'.   
  
"Do you think that's a bar or something?" Quistis asked, wishing the sign wasn't blocked. The cowboy shrugged his shoulders, how would he know? Deling changed rapidly, even if he had spent part of his childhood in Galbadia, it was on a ranch, not within the city limits. Getting up again, she grabbed the nearest phone book to start searching through the directories. Indeed, she was nearly giddy, they were really onto something now. Though, how Seifer fit into the scheme of things was yet to be determined.  
  
Part 6: It's Coming Down  
  
  
Selphie awoke with a throbbing pain in her skull. It took her a moment to adjust to her surroundings. Where was she? Where was Zell? She panicked suddenly, forcing her eyes open, finding herself bathed in darkness. A cell? There was a cot beneath her, and it smelled of sterile linens. It was not a slimey place, like out of the fairy tales she read as a young girl. Pristine, immaculate. Sitting up, she felt at the back of her head, wincing as her fingers found the knot there. It throbbed a little, possibly concussionary. How did she get here? Everything had been fine, until she and Zell went to the shopping arcade.  
  
It had already been a day since escorting the Galbadian ship into Esthar's airspace. The repairs wouldn't be extensive, but it would mean two extra days in the city till their ship would be ready to fly again. It meant a little extra money for retaining SeeD escorts a bit longer, but Selphie quickly got bored with wandering around the city. The technology was fascinating, but Irvine wasn't there to share it with her. Zell wasn't a bad companion, but they were both chatterboxes and tended to talk over one another, which irked the girl. Irvine never talked over her, he always just listened and sometimes answered her questions, if she gave him a chance. As much as she was embarassed to admit it, she missed the cowboy. Oh she didn't miss his embarassing innuendos or his occasional attempts to flirt with her. He could really be such a pig at times, but when that sensitive side of him came out, it nearly made her swoon. If only he would always be like that, she mused. Then again, he just wouldn't be the same.  
  
The second day in Esthar, she'd coaxed Zell into going to the shopping arcade with her. Irvine never protested going to any stores with her, so it irked her again that the martial artist was so reluctant. Zell, however, just wasn't interested in shopping, unless it was for a paticular comic he'd been looking for. And Selphie never seemed to want to go into the places he was interested in. Honestly he didn't have any idea how Irvine got along with her all the time. Once upon a time Zell thought she was kinda cute and had the slightest of crushes on her, but since the cowboy came into the picture, he'd backed off and it had given him a bit of a distance from which to see. Selphie just seemed terribly self centered to him, and a little on the wild side underneath that soft, happy-go-lucky exterior. Oh, he didn't like her any less, he'd just lost any last vestiges of that original crush and considered her more like a little sister, one that annoyed him often.  
  
Nonetheless, the two of them marched into the arcade together, then promptly separated. Selphie really didn't want to, but Zell was fairly well determined to check out the comics shop and a few other places she wasn't interested in. So, off she went toward the dress shops, deciding perhaps a new outfit might whittle away some of her time here. And with a neat pair of gloves, maybe something fingerless like what Irvine wore. She paused then, stomping her foot. Oh stop thinking about Irvine! "I'm not in love with him, I'm just not!"  
  
"You don't sound all that convinced of that," an unfamiliar voice replied to her.  
  
"Huh?" Selphie said as she whirled around. She didn't even get a chance to really look at the guy. The moment she'd turned, something really hard thunked her smack dab in the back of her skull. Darkness came rather swiftly after that.  
  
And now she was waking up in some darkened cell. Didn't they at least have lights in these places? She really had no idea where she was, or how long she'd been out. Zell was no where to be seen either. Did they catch him too? Or had he somehow escaped? She hoped so, even crossed her fingers in her lap as she chewed at the underside of her lower lip.   
  
Trying to stand, she found that her legs were a little wobbly, her stomach rather nauteous suddenly. Resisting the urge to evacuate her lunch, she slowly crept along, keeping herself against the wall. Reaching the door, she felt along it for any sort of doorknob or handle. None, of course. Not even the thin slitted bars that one finds on the sterotypical prison door. She pressed her ear to the cool metal, shivering at the cold contact. Outside seemed quiet, either that or the door was just too thick. Then, she caught the ring of bootheels against a hard surfaced floor. It was headed for her cell and she barely had time to step away from the door before the latch clicked open, flooding the darkened room with florescent lighting.  
  
"If you'll just come with me, Miss Tilmitt," a baritone voice said as a hand reached in to grab her arm. Now, if this had just been girl Selphie, and not SeeD trained super pilot Selphie, then he might have stood a chance. But, the girl simply wasn't about to let this jerk touch her, let alone drag her anywhere. Who knew what he might do to her? He could be a pervert! So, the moment he reached out for her arm, she slide to the side, sort of like one of her piloting maneuvers, to evade his grasp. Since this caught him off guard, she struck him solidly in the gut with all the junctioned strength she possessed, followed immediately afterwards by a kneesocking to the groin. Needless to say, she left the man in a moaning puddle on the floor of the cell.  
  
Still a little dizzy, thanks to the bump on her head, Selphie stumbled out of the cell and had to pause to right herself. It was that or fall over. The hallway was rather dreary, obviously a sub-level of some sort. The lighting was tracked, leading from one end to the other and had a faint orange glow to it, illuminating the white washed walls. Doors lined either end, presumably other cells, and there was a guard station far to her right. However, it appeared that the guard whose post it was happened to be the very same man she had just felled. Turning, she pushed him into the cell a little further, reaching over him to grab the keycard from his belt. She had to wrinkle her nose and make herself do it, for he reeked of bourbon, shaken and not stirred. Yuck.  
  
Closing the cell door, she gleefully locked it with the keycard. Giggling, she wondered how he'd feel to be waking up in there now. Served him right! Bounding down the hallway, she paused at the guard station, looking at the computer there for a moment to see where exactly she was. She blinked repeatedly in disbelief at the display screen: Galbadian Correctional Facility. Deling City Branch. Galbadia? What the heck was she doing here? She was in Esthar not that long ago. Suddenly Selphie felt she'd been out a lot longer then she thought. And why would Galbadians kidnap her in the first place? She was hired to escort their diplomat!  
  
Sulking at the strangeness of the situation, Selphie found a few uniforms in the locker room. Most of these guys didn't even lock them. Not that she minded, it only made it easier to find one close to her size. Someone was real short among them, though, as she managed to get into something that fit relatively close to her petite frame. The waist wasn't quite right, but with her wearing the dress under all of it, and putting a belt on, and tucking the uniform shirt in, she got close. Close enough, she hoped, not to be terribly obvious. Taking a deep breath, she paused at the stair well, thinking. Hey, if this was Galbadia, and Deling City even, that meant Quistis and Irvine were here somewhere!  
  
With that in mind, the petite SeeD raced up the stairs, only to catch herself and start trying to walk with some sort of official air as soon as she got to the higher levels.  
  
To be Continued.... 


	4. Parts 7 & 8

Standard Disclaimer: Final Fantasy Characters and settings belong to Squaresoft.  
  
  
  
  
Part 7: Bookends  
  
  
It was strange how Squall would turn to duty while his personal life crumbled around him. With the destruction of the mysterious, unmarked ship, he had something to do that occupied his time, kept him from thinking about Rinoa's sudden and palpable absence. True to her word, she had packed her things and left Garden, boarding a train that took her back to Timber. She hadn't even said good-bye to him again. No tearful farewells, no pleading last looks. He had been compelled to stay as the ship was extracted and evidence gathered, and that took most of the day. When he finally crawled to his room for sleep, her things were gone, leaving only a picture on the wall, a memory and a last scent of her perfume in her wake. For the first time in years, or that he could remember at all in fact, Squall Leonhart cried himself to sleep.  
  
He was awoken too soon, not to a knock, but to a hand on his shoulder. Zell Dincht looked grim, yet at the same time concerned. For once, he didn't quite bounce like he was on a constant sugar high, but merely stood there and gave the Commander time to gather his wits and wipe the sleep and dried tears from his eyes. Something was obviously wrong. Where was Selphie? If they were back, then they didn't need to wake him, merely to file their reports and go about their merry ways.  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
"Selphie's gone, missing since yesterday. I had to fly the Ragnarok back by autopilot. Galbadia's not happy."  
  
Selphie's gone? Squall blinked owlishly at Zell as if he were an alien suddenly. The fog of sleep cleared and he rose from the bed, reaching for his jacket. "When and where was she last seen?" This was serious, he'd deal with the Galbadians another time, probably just not charge them anything even though the escort was needed to get their diplomat there. Selphie, on the other hand, was a much larger concern. Why in the world would someone kidnap her?  
  
"I was with her at the shopping arcade in Esthar. We split up," Zell paused for a moment and shuffled, fidgeting again as he usual did. He honestly felt terrible about this entire situation. It wasn't his fault, and he knew it, but there were the typical doubts. If he'd just stuck with her and endured the shops he had no interest in, maybe he'd have been able to keep her safe. "I didn't think anything would happen to her. I don't know what happened to her, just that she was gone. I looked all over, President Laguna sent out soldiers to search for her. As far as they know, she's not anywhere in the city."  
  
Running a hand through his toussled hair, Squall sighed. Duty called, and as the Commander of Garden, he would have to rise to the challenge. Now, Selphie always seemed a bit scatter-brained to him, but never bad enough to get lost in a place like Esthar, and certainly not without eventually checking in with someone. This meant foul play somehow, and he only prayed that the girl was still alive. He didn't want to deal with Irvine if he had to tell the cowboy his sunflower was dead.  
  
"All right, we'll head for Esthar, start there. I'll radio ahead to my--"Squall paused then. His father. Laguna Loire. He had avoided talking to the man, actually. There was a certain animosity he felt toward him, though he hardly understood it. He had never been a true orphan, not like the others, he was abandoned by his father. Or, at least, that's how he had come to view it. Now, he would have no choice. He only hoped his father decided to stick to the issues of the missing Selphie.  
  
As the Ragnarok lifted into the sky, Squall setting the autopilot course for Esthar, he wondered where Selphie could be, and how in the world he and Zell would find her. If she disappeared seemingly into thin air, there was the possibility they might not ever find her again. After Rinoa's abandonment, the commander wasn't sure he could take that loss as well. Please be ok, Selphie. For all of us.  
  
Part 8: Angels of the Silences  
  
  
The rain had stopped, finally, by the time Quistis and Irvine reached the Bull's Red Eye, the only place in all of the phonebook directory that even remotely matched the title they'd gotten off that sign. Even turning down that paticular street, the cowboy's keen eyesight realized this was it. Somewhere near here was the spot where Seifer had filmed that introduction. Of course, this could be a cold trail by now, for who knew when he'd made that datatape. Rebellion groups were notorious for changing hangouts and bases of operations. It was good policy if one wanted to remain alive and active. Still, it could provide them a clue, perhaps two.  
  
Quistis had assumed her leadership stance again, which had irritated the cowboy all afternoon. She seemed especially cross lately, the more they were forced to work together. Figuring he'd hurt her pride by smoothing talking the contacts without her, he'd attempted to be rather docile about her irritations. But, after she'd snapped at him for the third or fourth time, over something utterly trivial, he'd lost his temper and the two of them started shouting at one another on the carriage. The driver even had to stop and ask them to please be quiet or he'd make them to get off and walk. Chagrinned, the two immediately shut up, glaring at each other silently. Irvine had no idea what was eating away at her, but he wasn't going to continue to put up with it. Selphie never snapped at him like that, after all. It wasn't something he was accustomed to.  
  
For her part, Quistis didn't really mean to act so utterly cross with the cowboy. His presence, however, got under her skin in a way that she simply didn't understand. Crowded against him on the carriage, she'd felt his warmth, and couldn't help but glance over at him to watch the breeze wind through his auburn hair. This was not something she knew how to handle, nor could she make it just go away. She was a SeeD specialist, not some thirteen year old Cadet with her first crush. Still, she remembered how she'd felt for Squall originally and though she had felt close to him, she had never felt this sort of heat being near him. This was something entirely new and she did not like one bit of it. Irvine was a rather good looking man, but he was too young for her. She was not attracted to him. She simply was not attracted to him! Zell didn't do this sort of thing to her. From now on she would definately insist he accompany her on missions.  
  
So, when Irvine had accidently elbowed her when the carriage suddenly turned, Quistis had snapped at him for it. It was an accident, and had anyone else done it she'd have accepted it without more then a sarcastic comment. This time, she lost it. All her cool and calm SeeDly demeanor right out the side of the carriage. And, to her amazement, the normally laid back cowboy had stood his ground and shouted right back at her. After both were admonished, she sulked, refusing to look at him, refusing to acknowledge his presence beside her, even as his scent invaded her senses. Why was life so cruel?  
  
Luckily, she managed to distract herself as the carriage dropped them off at the edge of the seedier area of Deling. It seemed somewhat darker here, the streets in disrepair, the litter here far more prolifferate. This was a well known crime area. The Galbadian police rarely patrolled it unless absolutely necessary and the criminal element was known to take root and flourish amongst the poverty. Both their bad moods seem to fade, duty and precaution replacing flaring tempers. The Bull's Red Eye was a bar somewhere in the center of the street. Once the sign was located, they began to search the general area. Windows were the primary target, seeking one that might have the proper angle from which that camera could have gotten the right shot.  
  
It was Irvine who first discovered it, gesturing for Quistis to join him. The building itself was two story, and not a shop of any sort. It looked like a warehouse. Most notable to him, however, was a basement level, twin windows on opposite sides of the entryway. Crouching down, he boldly peered into the first window, resting a hand against it to block out the light and allow him to see the interior better. Quistis had to resist the urge to smack him for that. Someone could be down there and see him peering in. Not only did he have no propriety, but he obviously wasn't thinking either. But, it was too late now, and the cowboy suddenly seemed rather excited, glancing at her from over his shoulder to gesture toward the window. She kneeled down beside him and found herself repeating the same actions she'd cursed him for. White washed walls greeted her gaze, as well as the chair and table. They'd found the film sight.  
  
And apparently a lot more.  
  
"Ok, cowboy, instructor, hands up. This ain't a stick up, and please, do try something," a familiar voice quipped. With a sigh, Irvine rose to his feet, turning as Quistis did as he laced his hands behind his head. And there stood Seifer in all his arrogant glory, holding a firearm on the SeeD pair.  
  
"You know, you guys are really slipping. SeeD not offering you refresher courses?" Seifer said, grinning at the pair as he gestured for them to head up the stairs of the building. "Fuujin, open the door, we got ourselves a pair of stoolies."  
  
Reluctantly, the pair entered as the white haired Fuujin held the door open for them, Seifer chuckling all the way in behind them. He'd seen the two arrive, and even start poking around. He'd been amazed they'd located the hideout, though Fuujin had nearly been kicking him in the shins for days now that it was time to go. He'd learn to follow her intuition from now on, he guessed. Now, the problem lay in what to do with them. He wasn't going to kill these two, as he would any of the Galbadian spies. But, it was rather obvious that Frankard Deling was tired of losing his investigators and under cover officers while trying to snuff out the Freedom Front, the most powerful of the rebellion groups that plagued the current establishment. So now they were sending in SeeDs, no doubt hired without anyone even realizing the situation going on over here. Oh he figured he could probably appeal to the cowboy's bleeding heart, but Quistis, that was another matter entirely. She was just another of Squall's flunkies, a jilted lover in his eyes who still mooned over her former student. And if she refused to join, more then likely the cowboy would refuse too. Loyal to the end.  
  
But, he could always try.  
  
  
To be continued....  



	5. Parts 9 & 10

Standard Disclaimer: Final Fantasy characters and settings are property of Squaresoft.****

  
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** Part 9: Nobody's Fool**

Getting out of the prison had been far easier then Selphie thought it should have been. But, the keycard was to the lowest level, and apparently had all the floors programmed on it. So, she maneuvered herself around the building and eventually found the exit. In fact, it was the main entrance to the building and with a little wave to the front desk lady she walked right out the door. The thought made her laugh. Bet they'd feel awfully silly when they found out how she escaped. Outside was dark, well into the nighttime. She wondered what time it was, then found a clock set high into a tower. She recognized the structure as the Presidential Palace. The place where Irvine had taken that infamous shot at Edea. Staring at it mesmorized, she had to shake her head to pull herself out of her memories. It had only been mere months since that day, but it felt like years ago. 

Ten o'clock, well past the Galbadian curfew. She had wanted to shed this uniform as soon as possible, but left it on, figuring it might save her being questioned by authorities if they caught her roaming the streets of Deling this late at night. She just escaped, after all, and it wouldn't do to be caught again thanks to the curfew. Tapping into her memory, she tired to recall where Irvine and Quistis were supposedly staying while in Deling. There was the man hotel near the downtown area, and then there were myriad other inns often used by Garden when they wanted to be a little inconspicuous. Trotting along the street, she decided to check out the big one first. If they weren't there, then she'd just systematically search each hotel till she found them. Sure, it might take her all night, but what else did she have to do? She had to get in touch with someone. 

Weaving through the backstreets and alleyways, Selphie tried to avoid any officers she saw ahead of time. For those that she couldn't evade, she merely walked past them at an authoritative pace. She'd learned that while sneaking around at the Galbadian missle silo. Just act like you fit in and everyone thinks you do. No one stopped her, and a few saluted her, to whom she saluted back. The darkness hid the fact that her uniform was a wee bit too big. And, since she was moving along as fast as she could manage, she looked busy, like she was on her way somewhere. Walking, however, took time, since the carriages weren't allowed to transport anyone after the curfew began. Deling City wasn't exactly small either. It took her a half an hour to reach the once gleaming spectical that encompassed the city's downtown area. 

The neon lights were all snuffed out, however, shop windows lit only enough to show off window displays and allow officers to peer in to make sure no theives were attempting a late night robbery. Even the hotel was dark in the lobby. No one ever came to rent a room at this time, so they closed their doors and left the main desk manned with only one clerk, in case a resident needed something later at night. She wondered if she could walk in, but upon trying one of the doors she found it was locked. No one going in or out. With a sigh, she started to turn when she heard a voice. 

"Hey, you there, stop!" 

Clapping a hand over her mouth to keep herself from shrieking, Selphie whirled around, expecting to see an officer coming toward her. To her relief, it appeared that the man was approaching a couple down the street, the two of them locked together in an embrace. Actually, even in the darkness they both looked awfully familiar. With dread horror suddenly sending an icy knot into her stomach, the girl realized rather quickly who they were. Irvine and Quistis. And there were _kissing_. She was very glad then that her hand was still over her mouth, muffling her gasp of shock. She had always thought of Irvine as her cowboy. Oh sure, she never quite returned his attempts to flirt and even told him to quit it sometimes, but he was always there, always _hers_. Had she waited too long? Was this why Squall had insisted on splitting them up? 

In a way that reminded Selphie of watching a train wreck, she couldn't help but stare at the two as they halted their liplock to talk to the officer. She could see Irvine's gestures even if she couldn't quite hear what he was saying. Fasttalking his way out of another situation. Well, this was one incident he'd never fasttalk himself out of. Not with this girl. Hands going to her hips, Selphie felt the righteous indignation slowly melt away then. Tears were beginning to stream down her cheeks and she quickly turned and ran down the street, no longer caring if she were caught by someone. 

She wanted her Irvine back.   


**Part 10: Opiate**

Seifer didn't lock Quistis or Irvine away somewhere, as Quistis figured he would. Instead, he merely took them down to the very basement he'd created that datatape in, letting them sit and even being curtious enough to offer something to drink. Irvine was wary, even to the point of mouthing off to the tall blonde, but Quistis put her hand on his arm, grateful that all she felt was the leather of his duster. Shaking her head at him, he closed his mouth again. It appeared to her that Seifer was different, and for that, she would at least hear him out. She had a lot of questions to ask, after all. 

"So, I bet you two are wondering why I'm in the Galbadian Freedom Front," Seifer says, eyeing Irvine a moment till it looked like Quistis had kept him from getting mouthy. The blonde would have no problem tossing the cowboy on his ass and pummeling him into silence if that's what it took. Luckily, he didn't think he would need to. "I came here on a whim, out of Fisherman's Horizon. This place stinks, how the hell you put up with it, I'll never know, Kinneas. The repression here? Bah, and you guys helped it along, but we won't go there. You're helping it again, now, and that's why you're not leaving this building till you hear what I got to say." 

The two SeeDs merely gave Seifer a blank look. Quistis was as cool as ever, merely lifting a pale eyebrow at the blonde, expecting him to explain this. Irvine was wary, arms crossing over his chest. He'd listen, but it'd take some convincing. This was unexpected. Seifer thought it would be the other way around. "I thought you'd be a little more sympathetic for your own people, cowboy." 

"You're not Galbadian, Seifer, so don't go preaching at me," was shot back hotly. Irvine even sat forward rather suddenly, as if he meant to leap to his feet and attempt to knock Seifer's block off. Quistis managed to calm the tensions yet again, a hand resting against his shoulder. The tall blonde smirked at this, wondering if he should continue to egg the cowboy on. He could see there was something and yet nothing between them. He held his tongue, however. In this situation he needed to appeal to them both, not goad Irvine into a fight. 

"Who knows my nationality, Kinneas, I'm an orphan like you, I just might be. Wouldn't that just make your day? But I'm not here to fight with you, cowboy. So cool your jets," Seifer paced a little, pausing to get himself a drink. Even if they refused, it didn't mean he had to go with a parched throat. "Look, the people out here are starving for liberty. The Deling family has been in power for three generations now. At first, things were great, it's why they have all this technology. Then Vinzer came into power. He's been taxing the middle and lower class practically into poverty. When he died, his brother Frankard took over. And things have only gotten worse from there. Rationing took effect, the curfew came into play. They've slowly turned this into a city under martial law. Oh they'll tell you it's because of the rebellion groups, but don't you believe a word of that crap. They'd do it with or without us harrying them. 

"When I came here, this outfit was doomed. With me behind the wheel we've become the biggest rebellion group fighting against the tyranny of the status quo. And nothing, not even you two, is gonna keep me from living up to my responsibility. I'm seeing this through to the end. So, you guys got two options. Join up with me, or I lock you away somewhere till it's over. Personally, I know your skills and I'd love to use them, but I've got no problem sticking you where the sun don't shine if I have to." 

Irvine refused to even look at Seifer now, staring out the window as the blonde continued with his explanation. The problem with it was simply that the cowboy knew he was right regarding the situation in Deling. His foster parents had struggled for a very long time under Vinzer Deling's reign, he'd even been sending part of his paychecks to them to help support them and keep the government from foreclosing on the ranch they'd maintained for generations. Quistis was thoughtful, tapping her chin with a forefinger as she considered Seifer's fervor, as well as his argument. In her opinion, Squall was wrong to continue using SeeD the way Cid had. For she knew well that Garden's Headmaster had long been quietly supporting what he felt was morally right and finding a reason to reject what he felt wrong. Their Commander was young, however, and hadn't yet learned the secret, or gained the experience of how to say no. 

The SeeDs glanced at each other. Quistis lifted a pale brow and Irvine's lips quirked to the left. Seifer watched the private communication impatiently. Do it or don't do it and quit wasting everyone else's time, that was his opinion. Fuujin might kick his shins for it, but he was the kind of person who made his decisions quick and saw them through. These two had to stop and think it through, however, and it irritated him. Maybe he should have just locked them up and had it over with, after all. 

Finally, a decision was reached and Quistis looked up at the taller man. "All right, Seifer. We're in, I don't think Squall's aware of what's going on here any more then we did. We'll need to contact him, then form a strategy to help you." 

Now, Seifer wasn't stupid, and he had to pause to consider their offer of aid. Were they attempting to placate him into letting them go? Paranoia had been bred into his mind since taking over as the head of the Freedom Front and so far it had served him very well. Still, Quistis was not one to go back on her word. He learned that as her student, once upon a time. She was a little over-emotional then, far too bossy for his tastes and definately irritatingly insistant, but a liar she was not. In the end, he chose the paranoia anyway. If they wanted in, they were going to have to prove themselves first, just like anyone else who tried to enter the ranks of the Front. Till then, he fully intended to keep them with him, where he could watch their every move. 

Opening his mouth to state his terms, Seifer was interrupted by Irvine leaping to his feet rather suddenly, tackling the taller man down to the ground with an 'oof!'. The sound of shattering glass followed seconds afterward, a bullet zipping through the air where Seifer had just been standing, thunking into the concrete wall with a dusting of plaster. Luckily, being a sniper meant that the cowboy had the eagle eye, and when he saw that red light appear on the blonde's coat, tracking upward toward his temple, he'd taken action immediately to get him out of danger. Fuujin and Raijin pattered down to the basement right then, gesturing for everyone to head out the back door. 

"Surrounded," Fuujin announced crisply, clearly indicating they were in danger now. Seifer shoved Irvine off of him without so much as a thank you and followed his posse members toward the cellar door they kept for just such an emergency. It lead into the sewers down below the city, and the tunnel system down there was so complex it'd be nigh impossible to follow. The SeeDs weren't far behind though, Irvine bringing up the rear and making sure the trap door was shut behind them all.   


To Be Continued.... 


	6. Parts 11 & 12

**Part 11: Caught In a Web**

  
  
  
  


As soon as Squall and Zell arrived in Esthar, they were escorted to the presidential office. Laguna Loire was aware of their approach, and had made sure soldiers were waiting for them. If Selphie had been rather suddenly abducted, he did not want to risk the same for his son. The two were still estranged, but there would always be the reminder of blood ties between them. As soon as the door opened and the two were shown inside, Laguna rose from behind his desk, silent in the first awkward moments. Squall looked tired, dark circles under his eyes, yet was as taciturn as always, that permanent frown plastered to his lips. Zell wasn't much better, though he still remained active, not exhausted enough to be able to sit still. He remained standing even as the Commander sat down, waving off formalities with a gloved hand. 

"You know why we're here, President Loire. One of our SeeDs may be in danger." 

Laguna slowly returned to his seat, refusing to wince at the refusal to call him 'father'. He understood, in reality. What occurred was a long time ago, and now was not the time to explain to Squall why he was left at Edea's. Another day, perhaps. For now, however, he would follow example and stick to formalities, "Yes, my personal guard has searched the city. If she is in Esthar still, she's well hidden. I believe there is more then meets the eye here, however. We're detaining the Galbadian diplomat. You've landed in the midst of a political land mine, Commander Leonhart." 

This didn't surprise Squall, though the politics between nations didn't interest him in the slightest. If Galbadia and Esthar wanted a war, fine, let them war with each other. Garden was not going to get involved unless hired out by one side or the other. Tersely, he attempted to get the conversation back on track again, "Unless that has to do with SeeD Tilmitt, Mr. President, we'd like to stay out of politicking." 

Laguna sighed, running a hand through his peppered hair. Though clearly into his fifties now, the man still possessed a rugged handsomeness that won him the hearts of many a woman. He could have married by now, some said he should have. There was a reason why he continued to refuse. "Squall, I believe the situation with the diplomat was exactly why Selphie disappeared. I'm surprised an attempt wasn't made on Zell, too. Yesterday, my office was breached, when guards arrived, they captured men that had arrived with the diplomat. They were spies, attempting to infiltrate and steal information regarding our technology and weapon systems. We caught them red handed, all thanks to one little slip up in their sneakery." 

Squall still failed to see what this had to do with Selphie's disappearance. This is a political disaster for Galbadia, not a reason to harm the SeeD escort they'd hired. His confusion matched Zell's, who had so far stood there with semi impatience. Talk was for the figureheads of Esthar and Garden, but the spiky haired blonde was itching to do something. Selphie was out there and in a bind, and here they all were _talking_. "So what's that got to do with Selphie?" 

Looking at Zell, Laguna sigh, shaking his head. "Selphie is the pilot, you two. We have experts here who wanted to confer with her, for the flight patterns of those attacking ships seemed far too convenient. They were within range to attack with weaponry that would have blown that Galbadian ship right out of the sky, and instead they attacked with light rail guns to damage the side. Why not silence her, to keep her from confirming our suspicions?" 

This was beginning to fit together. The puzzle was far from complete, but Squall and Zell were beginning to see the picture. Galbadia was up to something, and had used SeeD to help meet their ends. So when they didn't cover their tracks well enough, they attempted to remove the problem all together. Zell suddenly felt ill inside, kicking himself for not sticking with her at the shopping arcade. Was she still alive, even? Bouncing on the toes of his shoes, he began the usual shadow boxing, then clenched his fists and ground his teeth, hissing out, "Well we can't just sit here and talk, we gotta _do_ something, we gotta find her." 

Squall reached out to put a hand on one of Zell's fists, rubbing at the scar across his nose idly with his free hand, eyes closing. "Zell, stop. We have no idea where Selphie is, or even if she's alive. I care about her as much as you do, but this isn't something we can just rush out and do." Leaning forward, he reopened his eyes and stared intently at Laguna, "What about exits to and from the city. I know your technology, Laguna. Surely you can narrow down suspects." 

Zell forced himself to calm down a bit as Squall prompted him to. It wasn't easy, but he inhaled sharply and flexed his hands, standing up straight rather then hunching over in a fighter's stance. He wanted to hear Laguna's reply, after all, and it meant clearing his mind of thoughts about Selphie and her predicament. The president actually smiled at the commander's idea. "I was getting to that, actually. Yes, we do have records of all exits and entrances to the city. No aircraft took off during the time we believe she was taken, except one. An unmarked craft, not affiliated with any country. It was registered as an independent freighter bound for Galbadia. Those who left the city for the plains were all accounted for, majority of them workers for the air station or guards for the Sorceress Memorial. We believe that if she was removed from the city at all, it was aboard that independent ship. Not all of the diplomat's men are accounted for either, two are missing. We've attempted to question her about it, but she is refusing to answer our questions. If you like, I can grant you access to her for your own questions." 

Now they were starting to get somewhere. Squall rose, suddenly feeling a little less futile about the whole thing. If they had merely kidnapped Selphie, there was still a chance that she was alive. That fed him and Zell a bit more hope. 

"Let's go talk to this diplomat then." 

**Part 12: Uninvited**

  
  
  


Quistis and Irvine slipped along the tunnels beneath the city, occasionally arguing with one another about where they were going. After escaping being surrounded, they'd split ways with Seifer. The blonde had no choice but to trust them now, their presence at the Galbadian Freedom Front's headquarters more then likely outlawed them both with the government. So reluctantly he'd let them go their own way. Harder to catch multiple targets through the maze of tunnels and walkways, and he didn't want to go with them as they headed back to the hotel. He'd even argued with them about it, how risky it was how sure he was that they'd get caught. Unfortunately, all their equipment was back at the hotel, and Quistis was not about to go without at least the laptop. She needed to contact Squall desperately and let him know what was going on in Deling. 

Though still occasionally irritated with one another, Irvine was glad Quistis least attempted to be professional and stop harping on him. He gave up trying to lead the two anywhere, content to let her take over, even as they got lost twice and had to retrace their steps four times. She'd been through these tunnels before, back when she and Zell and Selphie had gotten caught in General Caraway's mansion and raced to get back to the arch before the Sorceress' float passed by. That, however, had been awhile ago. So the fact that Irvine was smiling faintly every time they took a wrong turn only irritated her further. It wasn't so much that she felt he was laughing at her either. He had a lovely smile, and she couldn't help but stare at him a few times before she caught herself doing so. _Oh Quistis, you have such horrid taste in men. Why do you always fall for the ones taken or not interested?_ Strangely, she had no reply for that inner voice. 

Finally they found themselves at the junction leading up to the main street for Deling's Downtown area. Climbing up through the manhole, Quistis soon realized they'd spent far too long below. It was well after dark, and by the absence of bodies or lights along the street, it was most likely after curfew too. They'd have to move stealthily to avoid the authorities that prowled about for anyone roaming around this late at night. Irvine popped up as soon as she had cleared the way, closing the manhole again as quietly as possible. It seemed so deserted to the pair, almost like a ghost town with a chill breeze winding down the empty street. They stuck to the shadows, attempting to remain as inconspicuous as possible. It was nigh impossible, with no other bodies or crowds to lose themselves in, and so both felt it a miracle when they spotted the hotel just ahead. Safety at last. 

Irvine stopped suddenly, Quistis running into him with an irritated little sound. She opened her mouth to chide him when he suddenly whirled around, pulling her into his arms. "Play along," he commanded in a whisper and before she could protest or ask what in the world he was up to, she was stunned into silence by the warmth of his lips against hers. He was _kissing_ her. Her first instinct was to slap him, back away, but to her surprise she fully gave in to his embrace, her instincts taking over even as her mind railed against it. For all her professional demeanor and steely resolve, Quistis Trepe was not at all prepared for something like this. And, worse yet, she _wanted_ it, a flush spreading across her cheeks, her body pressing inward against the cowboy's warmth. This wasn't fair! Was he toying with her? Had he known of her growing affections for him all along and been merely teasing her? At the thought, she started to squirm, pressing her hands against his arms to end this rather sudden and uninvited embrace when the sound of boots scuffling in the distance made her blood run cold. No one was allowed out after curfew, except for the Galbadian police forces who patrolled the streets to make sure everyone was being a good citizen and following the edicts of martial law. If someone else was about, it more then likely meant trouble. Suddenly she fully understood what Irvine was up to. Not that it made any of this easier. 

"Hey, you there, stop!" 

Irvine released her as the voice broke the stillness of the night. Turning, he began his usual banter, engaging in his subterfuge and smooth talking abilities to get the two out of trouble, hopefully. Quistis merely stood there, far too stunned to even attempt an act. Luckily, the flush to her cheeks and the wide look to her eyes lent to the cowboy's claims of a drunken night at a friend's, the two wandering out without knowing the time. It was a plausible story, but apparently the officer wasn't buying it. 

"Well, if you'll come with me, you'll be released in the morning as long as your story checks out. Too much trouble with rebel factions tonight. Now, turn, face the wall, hands behind your heads please." 

"I'm afraid we can't do that," Irvine replied, and the shotgun was flicked out from under the duster with the sort of speed that'd put most gunslingers to shame. The officer stared at him blankly for a moment, at least until his mind finally realized how the tables had been turned. "Now you just be a good boy and stay right there. Quisty, head on in and get our things." 

Obediently, Quistis took the opportunity to get away from him, finding the door to the hotel to be locked. She rapped on the door until the desk clerk realized someone was there. Shaking her head, she tried to let the SeeD know that the hotel was closed, at least until it was clear she was not just going away. Unlocking the door, the clerk poked her head out, "It's after curfew, we're closed, I'm sorry but we're not staffed right now to see you to a room." 

"I already have a room, just out late, please, let me in," Quistis replied with an exasperated sigh. Well, that the clerk could understand and when the SeeD produced a key as proof, she allowed her into the hotel. Up the elevator to the first floor, she raced back to their room, steadying her shaking hands to get the key in the lock and turn it. Once inside she grabbed only what was utterly necessary. The laptop, and the ammunition bag Irvine had brought along. Pulse ammunition was not something she wanted the enemy getting their hands on. And, she figured the cowboy would want it. The rest of their gear had to be abandoned, she simply didn't have the capacity to carry all of it and remain unencumbered. 

Racing back toward the door, she paused, hearing the sound of several feet rushing toward her door, unable to remain stealthy against the tile flooring down the hotel hallways. Something must have happened to Irvine, it was the only explanation for anyone coming this way, especially in large numbers. Hesitant a moment, she considered her options. If Irvine was subdued, for she refused to assume the worst and believe perhaps he was dead, then she either had to save him somehow, or get away. The laptop was a precious item, precious enough that letting the enemy get ahold of it would not only compromise them, but Seifer as well. It was a risk she couldn't take. _Sorry, Irvine. I pray you're all right, and I promise I'll come back for you with help._

As they began pounding against the door to her room, she flung open the double doors that lead out to the balcony and with a deep breath, jumped over the rail to the alleyway below. Now she would have to find Seifer's meeting point on her own. She could only pray that the cowboy was all right, but while she held the laptop with all their information and incriminating notes, capture was simply not an option for her. Padding down the alley, she spared a glance over her shoulder only once, seeing the officers standing at the balcony. Then she disappeared back down the manhole, retreating into the gloom and shadows of the winding tunnel systems. 


	7. Parts 13 & 14

Standard Disclaimer: Final Fantasy 8 characters and settings are property of Squaresoft. 

Author's Note: I'm back. I'll be getting back to The Kinslayer soon too.****

  
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**Part 13: Under One Condition**

  
  
  
  


This would be twice now that Selphie was waking up in a darkened cell. It was her own fault, this one was. After the horror of witnessing her Irvine kissing on Quistis, she'd dashed off down the street blindly, and had even begun crying. Of course this totally retracted from the authoritative stance she'd been using to get through the city and it got her caught. An officer stopped her, looked her over and promptly apprehended her as he realized she was an obvious fake. It was all that cowboy's fault too, as far as she was concerned. If he'd been faithful to her -- nevermind that he wasn't her boyfriend and owed her no loyalties -- then none of this would have happened! She had put up a struggle, of course, and the officer had to call in back up and before she knew it, knocked out yet again. 

Something was different this time, though. There was a very familiar scent, and the warmth of a lap under her head instead of a pillow. She even felt an arm draped over her, fingers curled around her waist. She pretended to be asleep just a little longer as her mind reeled dizzily to take in this new information. Leather, yes, it was the scent of worn leather and something fainter, gunpowder-- Irvine! Emerald eyes popping open immediately, she totally forgot to be mad at him for a second as she sat up a little too quickly. The relief of being in a cell with someone warm and familiar far outweighed the need to yell at him for being such a jerk. 

"Whoa, hey, careful there, Darlin'," Irvine said with a chuckle as he reached out to steady Selphie. She giggled, not caring that her head was pounding and she felt dizzier then she did the first time her head had been conked. Irvine was here, so everything was going to be ok. Somehow. 

Irvine had been surprised to be thrown into a cell with Selphie. The bastards had knocked her out, leaving her unconscious on the lone cot attached to the wall. Rather then try to wake her, he rested her head on his lap and assumed guard duty. This was an odd way for them to be reunited, but it was nice all the same. A lot of unanswered questions swam through his mind. Such as, what was she doing in a jail cell in Galbadia? Last he'd heard, Squall dispatched her on a diplomatic escort type of mission. That would place her in Esthar, not here. Also, why did they arrest her? None of it made sense. Now that she was awake, however, he'd get his chance to ask her. 

Selphie, however, had other axes to grind with him first. Relief over with, she prodded at the cowboy's chest with her forefinger, squinting at him even if it did kind of make her head hurt. "I saw you _kissing_ Quistis, Mr. Kinneas. What is up with that? Huh?" Something in the back of her mind reminded her that Irvine wasn't her boyfriend, but she paid it little attention. The fact that he was blinking at her dumbfoundedly told her that he was already chagrined that she witnessed his little slip up. 

"I didn-" Irvine stopped himself from lying. Yes, he kissed Quistis. But... "It wasn't like that, Sefie. I wasn't kissing her because I like her that way... I was trying to get us out of trouble with the officer who spotted us." He did not expect her to believe him. It sounded far fetched even to him, regardless of it being truth. Sighing, he pulled the hat off, resting his head against the cool cell wall. He never dreamed that he'd screw up any possible relationship with Selphie this way. It seemed such a boneheaded thing to do, in retrospect. "I wish you hadn't seen that, Sefie, and it's not 'cause I have any sort of crush on Quistis. She's been irritating me ever since we were assigned to work together." 

Selphie digested this slowly, lifting a hand to rest a finger against her lower lip. Her thoughtfulness intrigued Irvine, who found himself staring at her, finding that little gesture strangely attractive. Finally, when she looked up again, she nodded, deciding that she believed him. This was her cowboy, and he wouldn't lie to her. That was that. "Ok. If that's all it was, but don't let me catch you doing it again, buster." That finger prodded his chest again for emphasis, and that's when she realized he was looking at her. "Hey... why are you staring at me like that?" 

"Because I'm in love with you," Irvine replied with a chuckle, leaning over with every intention of kissing her right then and there. Selphie's eyes widened, and though no man had ever tried this before, she felt herself strangely mesmerized by the cowboy, unable to move. She was going to allow it, if not for the lock on the cell door opening suddenly, disturbing the moment and making the would-be lovebirds jump. She would sigh, if she wasn't suddenly so nervous, her heart nearly lodging into her throat. Not just for the fact that the door was opening, but that combined with Irvine's near kiss. Instead, she just got irritated, fists clenching as her nose wrinkled. Who was it now? 

**Part 14: Behind Blue Eyes**

The diplomat was not locked away in a cell, as those who had accompanied her were. Aisa Deling was like a princess in the eyes of the Galbadian people, and though she was in a lot of hot water politically, the Estharian authorities weren't about to fan the sparks to create a flame of war. Under house arrest, she remained at the Estharian hotel, under constant suveillience by the authorities. Squall and Zell were escorted into her room by Esthar soldiers, who remained at the doorway. The diplomat was young, perhaps in her mid twenties, hair perfectly coifed in a bundle of blonde braids around the nape of her neck. Her frame was slender and delicate, nothing like the squat and dowdy Frankard. Aisa's looks came from their mother, the only one of the Deling siblings to inherit any sort of beauty. She sat near the window, gazing out at the technological wonder of the city before the SeeDs' entrance. Blue eyes turned toward them, reflecting nothing for a moment as privately she assessed the two. 

"Aisa Deling?" Squall asked as he approached the woman. She shifted in her seat, facing him with her chin held high. Regal as any queen, she resembled the nobility of Galbadia far more then her brothers. 

"I am. Who are you, child?" her voice sounded contemptuous. How dare these people detain her for her brother's plots. Now they allowed mere boys to enter her room and ask her questions? 

"I am Commander Squall Leonhart of Balamb Garden, and this is Zell Dincht, SeeD operative," he replied in a taciturn manner. He read the recognition in her eyes. Her gaze softened and she relaxed visibly, inhaling as if relieved. 

"Commander Leonhart, forgive me, I did not mean to insult you or your companion. I am understandably aggrieved of this situation, and I tire of it. What can I possibly do for you?" she asked, folding delicate hands in her lap. The boy Commander's presence was a blessing and inwardly she felt high with her own giddiness. This was all going far too perfectly. Training her features to remain regal, yet helpless, she forced back her glee. Frankard always said she was a fine actress when a situation called for it. 

"One of our own is missing, one of the SeeDs who escorted you here, Selphie Tilmitt. We have suspicions that she has become a pawn in this situation," Squall proceeded carefully. Aisa's bearing disarmed him otherwise, and he wondered how in the world she fit into all of this. A victim of circumstance? Or Deling to the bone, merely playing games? Oh how he hated politics. The diplomat looked between him and Zell carefully, a finger brushing at the base of her neck as she considered what to say. Finally, her eyes lowered and she sighed heavily. 

"My brother is a ruthless man, Commander Leonhart. If he has taken one of your SeeDs, then she is likely either dead, or back in Galbadia, not here. I--" 

Zell, finally unable to hold it in anymore, leapt to his feet, fists clenched, his stance so tense he was shaking. "No way! She can't be dead. Damn you Galbadians, you better hope she's ok!" 

"Zell, sit down," Squall said with a sigh. He rubbed at the scar across the bridge of his nose idly. The martial artist slumped back into his chair, glaring at the diplomat as if his gaze could toss daggers at her. Aisa appeared nonplused by the outburst, regarding Zell coolly from her seat. There was more to this woman then met the eye, and the commander made sure to make note of that before proceeding further. "I would like to believe she is still alive. Where would he have taken her?" 

"To the prisons in Deling. Eventually she'd be transferred to the desert prison, as a political prisoner. It was Vinzer's way, Frankard doesn't truly deviate from it. This is if she's still alive, mind you." 

Squall nodded and rose to his feet. Selphie had to be alive, he refused to even consider otherwise. After finally finding those he spent his early childhood with, he wasn't about to lose any of them. Not one. Zell glowered a bit longer at Aisa before mimicking the commander, stalking toward the door ahead of the other teen. Squall paused however, turning toward the diplomat to salute her. 

"Thank you, Miss Deling. Your cooperation is appreciated." 

"Commander Leonhart..." Aisa replied, trailing off as an indication she wished him to pause. He did so, letting Zell continue out the door. "Frankard is up to something, something big. He doesn't let me in on these things, he knows I do not agree with how he runs Galbadia. He's done well to set me up here, and if your friend is alive, please use caution in rescuing her. It would be a rather large coup for him to capture the Commander of Garden." 

Squall stared at the woman for a long moment as he digested her meaning. "I'll remember your advice. Thanks again." With that, he turned and exited the room. 

As soon as the guards followed the pair, leaving Aisa in her seclusion yet again, a predatory smile crossed her lips. She leaned back in her chair, resisting the urge to throw back her head and laugh. How easy it was to manipulate the boy commander. How utterly simple. 

"Checkmate, brother." 


End file.
